


The Darkness Advances

by hogwartsahoy



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angst, But also some cute family stuff, Father and son bonding, Gen, Literally so much angst, Nightmares, Tears, brother bonding, many many tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22557457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hogwartsahoy/pseuds/hogwartsahoy
Summary: Harry wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of a scream from his son. What follows is a test of the both of them in coming to terms with their bond after years of turmoil, and more recently, days where Harry wasn't even sure if his son was alive and Albus wasn't sure if he'd ever see his father again.
Relationships: Albus Severus Potter & Harry Potter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 72





	The Darkness Advances

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea while making lunch today, and then somehow fired this out this afternoon – so enjoy... and I apologise in advance.

Harry was used to nightmares. He was used to waking up in the middle of the night, sweat dripping down his back, his hands shaking fiercely. He’d been dealing with them since he was a child, when he lived without the knowledge of who he really was, when he’d see a flash of green light behind his eyes before he woke up in the cupboard under the stairs, and wonder what on earth could have caused such a light.

He grew up with them as his constant companion. Taunting him, troubling him both when he slept and when he was awake. Tearing him apart from the inside out until he was nothing but a shell of himself. He’d thought he’d beaten them after Voldemort died – for a while, at least. He’d thought that he’d gotten through the crushing nightmares and had come out on the other side of them. When James had been born, when Albus had come along soon after, and then finally Lily. He’d felt the warm arms of family wrap around him and scare the nightmares far, far away.

Then, as his children grew and the warm embrace started to face, they returned.

He’d always been a light sleeper because of the nightmares. He nearly expected to wake up from them every night when he and Ginny went to bed for the night. Ginny often wished him a nightmareless sleep. Her wishes rarely came true, but Harry appreciated them nonetheless.

When he woke up and heard a scream on this particular night, he assumed it was his own. It was only when he sat up and realised that Ginny, beside him, was still sleeping soundly, and that he was not shaking or sweating or breathing heavily that he realised it wasn’t. The same fear he feels in the nightmares gripped him the same way.

Carefully, so as not to wake his sleeping wife, Harry slipped from the bed and left the bedroom. The door creaked a little as pulled it open, but Ginny luckily didn’t stir. When he stepped out into the hall, he let out a small sigh of relief – but the relief only lasted a moment, as only seconds later he heard the sound of soft sobs coming from a room at the opposite end of the hall.

Albus’ room.

His feet carried him towards it without even thinking. He’d been worried sick about his son ever since he returned home from Hogwarts, after the traumatic events with Delphi in Godric’s Hollow. They had happened _years ago,_ but in Albus’ reality – and partly in Harry’s reality – they were just days ago. Albus and Scorpius had been permitted leave from Hogwarts for a little while, and the comfort of home had seemed to be doing Albus well. Harry stopped outside his door and wondered how he’d failed to see that it wasn’t.

The door was cracked open ever so slightly.

“It’s all right. Breathe, in and out, slowly. It’s okay. It was just a nightmare.”

James. He breathed another sigh of relief.

It had been a task to try and get James to stay at school while Albus came home, and soon enough Professor McGonagall had simply relented and allowed James to go home with Albus – though only for two weeks and _only_ if he owled homework to his professors every day. James wasn’t as much of a fan of _that_ aspect, but of being there for his brother, he was. Harry had been happy with James being home. It gave Albus a much needed companion in his quieter moments, and Albus was much more likely to talk to James than he was to Harry.

Once upon a time, that would have bothered him, Now, he was grateful.

He waited another moment before pushing the door open slowly, and he watched as Albus and James turned to look at the intruder. Part of him wondered if he should have just gone back to bed and left James to it, but the other part of him knew he couldn’t. His son was in trouble. His son was having nightmares, just like he himself had them at his age, and if anyone could help, he would like to think it was him.

Albus sat up a little straighter in bed and wiped his eyes. “Did we wake you? Sorry.”

His voice was thick with tears.

“You all right, boys?” He stepped into the room a little tentatively. “I heard a scream.”

He watched as James turned to look at Albus, and then stood to his feet. He leant forward and gently kissed the top of Albus’ head. “I might leave you to it, but I’ll be here if you need me, okay, Al?”

Albus nodded, and James left the room and smiled up at his father as he did.

Harry didn’t miss how James closed the door as he left.

He’d always loved how close his boys had been. They were so different, but so similar in many ways – James had always been much louder and much more energetic than Albus, but he’d never held that against his younger brother.

Hesitantly, Harry took a few steps towards Albus. He was still sat in his bed, and the room was dark despite the light from the street outside peaking in through one of his windows. Albus never liked sleeping in the pitch black dark, and he hated it even more now.

“I had a nightmare.” Albus looked up at his father. He supposed it’d better to just say it, to stop his father worrying any more than he was already, and as Harry settled down on the bed in the spot where James had been sitting, he was grateful.

“Were you talking to James about it?”

Albus nodded. “He heard me scream. He’s good with nightmares.”

Harry paused. Eyebrows furrowing, though Albus couldn’t see that. “Is this– are you saying that this isn’t your first nightmare? Have you had nightmares before this and you– you didn’t say anything about them?”

His gaze dropped down to the duvet on his lap and he fiddled around and pulled at the edge of it as he hummed in reply. Harry didn’t mean to come across so strong to make Albus feel bad about it – because there truly was nothing to feel bad about. He knew that firsthand. He knew that _now,_ anyway. At Albus’ age, he’d felt troubled and embarrassed by them too. And he was adamant that his son not be.

He reached out a hand and placed it over one of Albus’ on the blanket. Albus looked up at him as he did, and Harry gave him a tight lipped smile.

“That’s okay. It’s okay that you kept them to yourself, and I am glad that you’ve had James with you. But… in future, would you– would you come to me about them? I just… I have… I have nightmares too. And if you would like… I would like to hear about yours. I can tell you about mine if you want… but I would like to hear about yours, and I would like to be there for you when you want me to be,” he spoke softly, and gently. “When you let me. I will be there.”

Albus took a few moments to think over the words, and then frowned.

“I don’t think you want to hear about this one, dad.”

“Tell me anyway.”

The room was silent for a few moments, and Harry wondered what on earth the nightmare could have been about, how bad it could have been, for Albus to be worried for his father to hear it. Yet he still sat by him, and he would for as long as Albus wanted him to be there.

“We were in Godric’s Hollow” were the first words Albus said, and Harry involuntarily tensed. His hands clasped together in his lap, and Albus could feel the air sucked out of the room by the few words, yet he continued anyway, as his father wanted him to. “It was after Delphi had been captured. She was gone, and– and Voldemort was there, right in front of us. And for– for a second I thought I was just dreaming about what had happened. Because I was standing beside you, holding onto you, and mum was on your other side, and Draco and Scorpius, and Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron were there too.”

Tears were already streaming down Albus’ face, and after every few words he would take a breath and then continue. His hands continued to fiddle around with the edge of the blanket and his eyes looked anywhere but Harry, yet Harry’s eyes never moved from his son.

“We– we watched as as Voldemort killed Grandpa. And you started breathing really heavily, and you were shaking and crying already and you were struggling to breathe and I was so worried– and that’s how it happened that day– so I just thought– I just thought that I was remembering… but then things changed…”

Albus took another long and shaky breath.

“It’s okay,” Harry assured him softly.

“You… you disappeared, and so did mum… I was holding onto you and then you were gone, and– and Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron were gone, and Scorpius and Draco were gone too and it was just me– I was– I was standing in the church all on my own and– instead of seeing Grandma up in the window– instead of seeing your mother I saw _my_ mother. I saw mum– and she was in that window, and _you,_ you were where Grandpa was– and Voldemort he– he–”

The words became all too much, and Albus couldn’t keep his tears at bay. The tears that had been simple tears at first had slowly made their way into full blown sobs, and much like Harry had struggled to breathe seeing his father die that night in Godric’s Hollow, Albus reacted the same way. Harry’s heart broke at the sight of it and soon, he was wrapping his arms around Albus, and Albus’ arms around him. Albus sobbed into his chest, and Harry held him close, a hand on the back of his head, unable to stop his own tears from sliding down his cheeks as his son sobbed into him.

“It’s okay,” he spoke gently. He wasn’t going to make him say anymore. He knew what was coming. He knew what his son had seen in that nightmare, what had woken him up with a scream and reduced him to tears. It was full of the same pain that Harry himself had felt that night seeing his own parents die right in front of him.

Albus’ nightmares had done the same for him. Had shown him _his_ parents dying right in front of him… and it tore him to pieces. He’d already seen more than any fourteen year old boy should have seen, and Harry still hated that he hadn’t been able to protect his son from that. He wasn’t sure how much time passed before Albus pulled away, and he didn’t particularly care. It was long enough for Albus to calm himself down enough, and that was all that mattered.

He wiped his face with the sleeves of his shirt and sniffed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Albus,” Harry muttered, wiping his own tears from his face. “You are allowed to feel the way you feel after dreaming something like this. You are allowed to feel the way you do after– after _everything,_ Albus. It’s okay. It _is_ okay.”

Albus sniffed again. “I know– I know we don’t always get along… but I would never wish you dead, dad. I would never want to see you die. I– you _and_ mum. I can’t– I don’t–” His words became softer, and Harry could tell he was on the verge of tears once more. A thought entered his mind, and he stood up.

“Will you come with me?”

While the words confused Albus, and he furrowed his eyes, he relented and threw back the covers. He was a bit shaky on his feet as he followed Harry out of the room and down the hall. It was halfway there that he realised where his father was leading him. He pushed open the door to his own bedroom where Ginny was still sleeping.

He smiled at the sight.

“She’s okay, Al. I’m okay. We are all okay,” he spoke, and wrapped an arm around Albus’ shoulders. “We _will_ be okay. And however long it takes to be sure of that, that’s okay too.”

Albus leant into his fathers side a little. “Can I–” He paused, shook his head.

“Go on.”

“Can I stay with you and mum tonight?” He looked up at his father a little reluctantly, as if he was afraid of the answer. “I know I’m a bit big for that now… but I just… I could really…”

He squeezed Albus’ shoulder gently. “Of course you can.”

Albus hadn’t slept in their bed since he was a young boy. Since he was _much_ smaller, and much less tormented by a difficult life, much less hurt by the world and those that lived in it. But for the first time in weeks, Albus slept soundly for the rest of the night. His mother woke up when he crawled into bed and smiled at the sight of him, kissed his cheek and wrapped an arm around him, and Harry slept on the other side. No questions were asked, no judgments made, nothing at all.

At _least_ until the three were woken early the next morning by James standing in their doorway, arms crossed over his chest, a pout on his lips, asking “Why wasn’t _I_ invited?” before throwing himself onto the bed with the rest of them.

The nightmare was all but forgotten, but happier memories were made in the place of the ones that had plagued Albus the night before, and laughter soon replaced the tears.

Albus looked up at his father, who had pushed himself into a seated position against the headboard. He didn’t have to say anything as they looked at each other. They just _knew._ He smiled, and Harry smiled back.

And that was enough.


End file.
